Dusk Falls at Sheikh Zayed Stadium, Abu Dhabi. September 19.

No traffic pile up on the roads leading to the stadium. No jostling with the crowds to get in. And an uncanny feeling as one viewed the empty stands. Yes, I knew that this is how it was going to be, but somehow still felt unprepared to see this new ‘normal’.

Getting in early and watching the players on the field felt like I had arrived at one of the practice sessions. But no, this was the real thing. The start of the Indian Premier League (IPL)  2020. The onslaught of Covid -19 has meant that not only are the games being held outside of India but they are going to be held without spectators, at least for now.

Wearing my face mask I took my seat suitably socially distanced from the next of the 30-odd people who comprised the audience.  Most were from the Cricket Boards of India and the UAE, others were organisers.

Toss done, the players were soon on the field. But, now I am not going to tell you about the game. Many of you would have already watched it and many more qualified ones will opine on how it went and how each of the teams and their players fared. I just want to share what it felt like watching a cricket game in a stadium sans spectators.

To begin with it felt lonely. One felt lost. There was camaraderie on the field but none to be had on the stands. The organisers had worked hard, really very hard I would say to make sure that the main audience of the game watching it on their screens did not feel the same way. It came into play as soon as the first ball was bowled. The crowd sounds, the cheering, the chanting, it was all there. I had only experienced canned laughter in comedy shows, but here we were in a stadium without fans but still complete with their sounds, as if they were there in sprit. From the dull murmur of people before the ball leaves the bowlers hand, to the hopeful cheering as it hits the bat and culminating in a crescendo followed by claps as it hits the boundary line. All of this and more had been canned and was being played at the right time to make sure that, unlike us in the stadium, the TV viewers did not feel alone watching the show in their living rooms.

There was no one to applause along the way for Ambati Rayudu as he walked back to the dressing room after making a scintillating 71 runs. No one to throw the balls back from the stand after a six. Maybe you didn’t spot any of this on your TV screens but looking round an empty stadium, they sorely stood out. 

If I was feeling like this, I wondered how the players, who have been living in a bio-bubble for the last three weeks, were feeling. Did getting on the field and finally getting down to business relieve them of their isolation? Or did they feel at a loss not having their fans around? These cricketers are used to playing T-20 tournament games in India in front of huge numbers of cheering and sometimes jeering spectators. Did the absence of this pressure bring relief or lead to a loss of adrenaline? How did it all play on them psychologically?

Just about everything had been re-calibrated to work for screen audiences. Maybe those of you who watched it on TV can share with me if they felt the difference. To me after the players on the field, the person who had the most difficult job in running the show was the sound mixer. How do you manipulate the sound of a cheer for a shot looking like it is going for a six culminating in a catch! So there were some misses. But all in all it was a job well done.

It was not just the sounds, the planners even had videos of the sea of blue of Mumbai Indians and yellow Chennai Super Kings fans playing out on huge screens to fill the void. The cheerleaders had moved there too and their showtime reduced, a change I welcomed.

For us, the stadium minority, there was no commentary either. So for me, not a cricket expert, that was the other big loss. Without the constant explanation I was not sure if the ball was a full toss or a yorker. The only saving grace was that I knew the spinners from the pacers. The only commentary we got was the end of over scores and the boundaries, a no brainer for anyone who had ever watched a game of cricket. And these too were a second delayed to play out right with the television telecast.     

But as the match progressed and I got more involved and focused on the field than the stands, I felt the recorded cheers becoming one with mine and my claps less solitary. I hope by the end the players too did not miss their fans too much.

Let the games begin.